A Love Like Yours
by UnSerious Sirius
Summary: You don’t understand. Where you go, I go. If you attempt to leave me behind, I will find a way to follow. [HarryDraco] [drabblesall lengths] [AU] [not chronological order]
1. Where You Go, I Follow

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Um, yeah…it's another Draco/Harry…I guess I can't say this is a one time thing, huh? Ah well, I knew it was coming. The last het story I read was Lit, by -TheSingingBlob-, which was, like three weeks ago, or something. The last het I _wrote_ was…god, I can't remember. Yeah.

Anyway, dedicated to CatJetRat, for drawing me over to the dark side of Harry/Draco. And no, you don't have to write a Harry/Ginny in exchange.

Everyone else was occupied with the food lying across the tables in front of them; eagerly balancing pumpkin juice in one hand and chicken or beef in the other, they chattered to their friends, blurting nonsensical things at random moments.

Not him, though. He had eyes only for the quiet figure that sat hunched at the end of his table, making a few perfunctory remarks so as to not draw attention to himself. He never took his eyes off the head of dark hair, and that was why, when no one else noticed, he saw the other boy get up slowly and disappear down a hallway, without a sound.

ooooo

The easiest way to disappear was in a crowd. He realized that a long time ago. Casually throwing down his napkin and making a low comment about visiting the bathroom, so that anyone who noticed him gone wouldn't follow, he walked away from his table and followed the other boy, carefully trailing him.

It was only when they were outside that he made any sound. His gray eyes sharp, he stepped forward until he was in Harry's view.

The brunette's shoulders hunched.

"Go _away_, Draco," he said in a low, almost harsh voice. "You can't be here." Draco laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling the way he trembled, feeling the hot tension running through him.

He spoke soothingly, as if to calm a skittish animal.

"Harry. Come inside."

"_No_." One single word, but it held such finality that the blonde knew that any more arguing would be futile. He shrugged, conjuring a cloak to settle around his shoulders.

"Very well, then. I'll have to come with you." He raised calm eyes to meet green ones filled with fear.

"No, no, you cant! You can't come, I won't let you," Harry said in a half-whisper, half-cry. "_I_ have to fight him, Draco. Me! Me, and only me, because I can't let anyone else get hurt."

"Harry." Draco grasped his arm firmly. "You don't _understand_. Where you go, I go. If you attempt to leave me behind, I _will_ find a way to follow. You have to fight him, yes, but not alone. Never alone." Harry fell to his knees.

"Draco…if you came, if you were hurt, killed…I couldn't let that happen," he said in a choked voice. "Please…" Draco dropped down to his level and took of the cloak, draping it over Harry's thin shoulders.

"Harry…whether knowingly or unknowingly, you've gotten used to the people you care about doing what you tell them to do, however bone-headed and Gryffindor-ish it is." He trailed off, clasping the other boy's hand and pulling it up to his lips. "I think, for once, you're going to have to accept doing what someone else tells you. Accept that maybe, this time, you don't have to make all the decisions, and I can make some for you." He felt Harry tremble again. They sat there for a time, the cold of the night seeping into their bones, the ground hard and firm under them as he held Harry in his arms.

"It would be a relief," Harry finally said. "It would be…a huge relief." And he let out a sigh that shook his body, and he rubbed his eyes tiredly and stood up, immediately refastening his arms around the blonde.

Still not letting go, never letting go, with a soft 'pop', they Apparated away.


	2. If I Cared About Safe

Disclaimer: Not mine. 

A/N: So, I decided to continue this a little archive of any Harry/Draco drabbles that came to mind, because I couldn't find anywhere else to put them.

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Harry ran his finger through Hedwig's glossy white feathers one last time before raising his arm. She took off with a screech, soaring off into the crisp winter morning. 

Harry leaned back into Draco's arms, shivering slightly in the cold. They stood there for a few minutes, savoring the feeling of being together, just the two of them, before Harry spoke.

"I can't just be Harry, no matter how much I want to," he finally said, closing his eyes wearily. "I have to be the Boy-Who-Lived. I always told myself I would never find a girlfriend, or boyfriend, because it was too dangerous. That didn't work out." He smiled ruefully. "I tried to suppress what I felt for you. That didn't work either. But, Draco, listen. Being with me…it's not easy. And especially for you, it's not safe." He felt Draco chuckle softly into his neck, the blonde's warm breath ghosting across his skin and leaving a tingling sensation.

"Safe? Harry, if I had wanted safe, I would still be the arrogant little snot I was in first year, blindly obeying my father's every whim and command like a lapdog. If I wanted safe, I wouldn't have told Voldemort to 'piss off', in so many words, when he said I had a chance to redeem myself by turning you in to him. If I had wanted safe, I would have taken up with some boring Hufflepuff who has no interest in the war and would run and hide first chance they got," he breathed into Harry's ear softly, his body radiating warmth through the many layers he wore. "I think," he continued, nipping at the brunette's ear, "it's a very good thing for you that I have absolutely no interest in 'safe,' whatsoever.

The sun rose high up in the cold blue sky, gleaming over his pale hair as he leaned forward to capture Harry's lips in a drowning, fierce kiss that, try as he might, Harry couldn't find a way to equate with safe.

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	3. My Unbidden Smile

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: In these drabbles I will be experimenting with different personalities for each character.

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Harry looked up puzzledly as Draco threw open the covers in front of his bed.

The blond had a look on his face that suggested he had just found out that his mother was secretly shagging Cornelius Fudge. He sat down next to Harry, somehow managing to do it both gracefully and dramatically.

"You've corrupted me," he announced seriously. Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"Indeed," he said slowly. "Care to elaborate?" Draco was silent for a moment.

"Yesterday at breakfast, when you were sitting with Weasley and Granger," he began, "I was talking to Pansy when I saw you." He paused again, as if steeling himself. "I smiled. I smiled at you, Harry! It was completely out of the blue, and made no sense in the middle of the conversation I was having with Pansy. It was just a…a natural reaction." He sat up straighter, his eyes taking on a glow, completely unaware that he was waving his hands in the air. "Ever since I was little I learned how to hide my emotions, because 'proper' Malfoys don't throw their feelings out for the world to see. It doesn't work with you, Harry." He let out a sigh and sank back onto a pillow. "I see you and I smile. I can't do anything about it. I could be talking to Professor Snape, or Voldemort himself, and if I saw you I would smile."

He looked so gloomy, and slightly petulant, that Harry felt a laugh bubble up in his throat. He unsuccessfully tried to suppress it, and he started laughing out loud.

"Are you…you're laughing at me!" Draco said incredulously, as if the idea was unimaginable. Harry made some gesture that was undoubtedly an apology, but continued to clutch his stomach for several minutes as his laughter finally died off with a few last chuckles.

Draco looked as if he would start sulking at any moment.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," Harry gasped, wiping his eyes. Draco caught his breath.

Harry's brilliant green eyes were sparkling with joy as unbridled amusement rang through his voice, coupled with tenderness. His untidy hair was swept away from his face as he straightened up to send another slightly apologetic glance in Draco's direction.

He had never looked more stunning to Draco.

Leaning forward, the blond straddled Harry's waist and leaned forward to kiss him, tightening his arms around the brunet's waist possessively.

"Scratch that," he murmured. "Laugh at me all you want, gorgeous."

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	4. Your Teeth, My Neck

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I like this one…and I really should be studying for finals, seeing as how it's Geometry tomorrow.

_Stare._

He sits there, hair falling past his ears and obscuring his eyes as he absently turns dusty page after dusty page, his pale eyes flicking from side to side. His fingers drum lightly on the dark brown binding of the musty tome; he rubs at his nose and leaves behind a small dark splotch.

_Stalk._

Closer now, so that his soft breath is audible, punctuated by small coughs from the surrounding grime and dust. He never looks up, but continues to read, occasionally picking up his quill to make a few neat notes, squinting slightly against the sunlight that spills in from the window over his face, adding sparkle to his eyes and color to his pale skin.

_Admire._

His robes are folded neatly on the chair behind him, his tie off and hanging loosely, the top two buttons on his shirt undone. A shadow trails down from his collarbone to disappear under his shirt. His head is tilted slightly to the side, showing off a smooth expanse of skin that ripples as he moves. He stretches, catlike, and his shirt shifts to the side, baring even more pale flesh.

_Pounce!_

And he jumps as the brunet appears out of nowhere, hungry green eyes glazed over and desire-darkened, and settles on his lap. The brunet leans forward and presses his lips to the blonde's neck, tightening his arm around the other boy's waist. He opens his mouth and bites down, soothing the spot with a soft lick, savoring the taste of cinnamon and spices on the blonde's cool skin. He finally pulls back and licks his lips, a satisfied look on his face as he gazes down at the mark he has left behind.

"Feeling a bit vampiric today, love?" Draco asks, his eyes fluttering as he takes a few short breaths, a smile evident in his voice.

"Only for you," Harry murmurs, reattaching his mouth to Draco's neck. "Only for you."


	5. Seduction

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Because Draco would like to see Harry take some control once in a while…

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Harry didn't know how Draco did it to him. One minute he was innocently sitting at the Slytherin Table (well, maybe not _innocently,_ considering who he was talking about), and the next, he was staring over at the Gryffindor table with a smoldering look in his eyes that practically begged Harry to push him up against a wall and snog the living daylights out of him.

He had been doing this for some time now. He would come upon Harry with his books strewn all around him (Harry never thought to ask himself why Draco was always around when he tripped) and help him up, picking everything up sweetly. The next thing Harry knew, the blonde was stepping closer with a predatory smile, pressing his lithe body up to the brunet's with a few whispered comments in one ear before dashing off with a smirk and a wave. That left Harry with a very obvious problem right before he had to go to class.

And then there was the night where Draco sat with the Gryffindors for once. Sandwiched in between Seamus and Colin Creevey, he took a delicate sip of his pumpkin juice and set the glass back down.

"You've got juice on your hand," Seamus pointed out. Draco looked down.

"Oh. I guess I do," he said, as if he hadn't noticed it. Harry knew he was the only one who had noticed how Draco had pitched his voice down lower and almost _purred_ the words, before raising his hand and licking a slow trail from wrist to finger, making sure all the last traces of juice were gone, before pulling his finger out of his mouth with soft sucking noise. He got up and paused to lean over Harry, making sure to rub against his back casually. "Bye, Harry," he whispered.

Harry swallowed hard.

When he turned around, crossing his legs and trying to think pure thoughts, he noticed Ron shaking his head at him and leaning closer.

"Mate, I really don't want to say this, because of the mental images it's going to give me, but here it is. You're acting like a bleeding Hufflepuff! Malfoy's got you running after him; so why not turn it around?" his redheaded friend asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's…not a bad idea," Harry said slowly, his vivid imagination running away with him.

And that was why Sunday morning found Harry out on his Firebolt, zooming across the field and doing complex loops and twirls. That in itself wasn't odd. What _was_ different was the fact that his shirt seemed to be…missing a few buttons, and his pants were tight enough that he looked poured into them, and he was ever so often subtly glancing at the blond-haired boy down below him.

When he finally landed, eyes glittering with adrenaline, he leaned his broom on the stands and made his way over to Draco, smiling slowly.

"Morning," Harry whispered huskily, leaning forward for a kiss. All of a sudden his hands were under Draco's shirt, leaving a few light, teasing touches here and there that had the blond arching his back and making soft noises. He pulled Draco closer and explored his mouth thoroughly and hungrily. Draco tried to grasp Harry's shirt to pull him in more, but he suddenly found the brunet out of his grasp.

"Breakfast time," Harry said innocently, taking up his broom again and jauntily heading off inside.

Draco smirked.

"Nicely done, Weasley," he said.

"Whatever," Ron groused, holding out a hand. "Just give me the pictures." Draco pulled out a stack of moving photographs, all of which seemed to involve Ron, Peeves, and some questionable attire. "I'm never drinking around you again."

The redhead turned around and left, leaving behind a very satisfied blond.

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	6. Watching the Show

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Because even Hermione has fangirl tendencies once in a while…

"Hey, gorgeous," Harry whispered, smoothly climbing onto Draco's lap and straddling him.

"Harry," the blond laughed, "I have homework!" Harry pouted.

"Yes, but it's not as interesting as me, is it?" he asked coyly, twisting the silver and green tie around his finger. Draco smirked and shoved his parchment to the side.

"Definitely not as interesting," he agreed, attacking Harry's mouth and drawing out a low moan from the boy in his lap.

000

"Hermione, just tell me what I did wrong!" Ron pleaded, following after the brown-eyed witch, angling his neck so he could look her in the eyes. She paused outside Draco's Head Boy room to send him a frosty glare.

"If you don't know I won't tell you," she snapped, drawing herself up to her full height. "Serpensortia," she told the portrait, and it slid open. She shook her head as she went inside. "Help me find them," she said to Ron. The redhead obeyed, casting his eyes around the spacious room. He recoiled after checking in the sitting room.

"I found them," he said, grimacing. Hermione followed his gaze.

Draco was settled on a chair with book and parchment surrounding him—he had obviously been doing homework. Now it looked like he was doing some studying on Harry's mouth—the brunet was on his lap and attached to his mouth.

"Oh," Hermione said.

"Let's separate them," Ron said, making a face again. His girlfriend stilled him with one hand.

"Hang on," she said, leaning on the doorframe.

"Why?" Ron asked, frowning. "Do—Hermione!"

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped. "Don't think I didn't see your eyes tracking that blonde's bum in Hogsmeade. Just think of this as my turn." She turned her eyes back to the snogging couple in front of her, a flush spreading across her cheeks. Ron squirmed for a couple minutes before cracking.

"Okay, I'm stopping them now," he told her firmly.

"Right," she said absently.

From where they were standing, all they could see was the back of Harry's head and Draco's arms, currently resting on the other boy's bum, so they didn't notice Harry move his lips from Draco's' up to his ear and start laughing silently. The blonde grinned in response, before pushing him away slightly and shifting his focus to Ron and Hermione.

"How was Hogsmeade?" he asked innocently. Hermione snapped out of her daze.

"Oh," she said excitedly, "it was fantastic, you really should have come. I bought you that book, Harry, on the history of vampires, it's in my bag. Let me go get it." When she exited, Harry and Draco succumbed to the laughter they had been holding in all that time.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"You two are so lucky I know you have no interest in Hermione whatsoever," he grumbled.

"She's too smart for me," Harry explained, grinning. "I'd feel inferior next to her."

Draco shrugged.

"She's just too female," he said.

Ron snorted.

"Well, she's just female enough for me, so I think I should go apologize to her. I'll leave you two to your…business," he told them.

When he was shutting the door Harry called, "Keep Hermione out this time!"


	7. Killer Mistletoe

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This is silly. But it was fun to write. And this is AU—I was too tired to think of something with plot that actually fit in with the books.

"I love you."

Draco frowned at Harry, but that was his only reaction. It wasn't quite as shocking the eight time he had heard it.

"And I think you need to go to the hospital wing, Potter," Draco said, turning his back and walking away.

Harry followed him. "Look, I'm not sick, or cursed, or something. It's a relief to just tell you. To not keep it inside."

"Yeah, well, how do I know it's not a plot to get close to me and then…violently murder me, or something?" Draco asked, waving his hands around to illustrate said violent murder.

Harry looked at him. "I notice you haven't actually said anything about you not being gay, or interested. And I brought mistletoe." He held it out, above their heads. Draco backed away, and Harry's expression grew exasperated. "It's only mistletoe."

"Mistletoe can be dangerous!" Draco pointed out. "It could be…poisoned or something."

"You're not going to eat it, dimwit."

Draco flushed angrily, opening his mouth to retort. Harry stepped closer.

"Better hope _I'm_ not poisoned, then," he murmured, pressing his mouth to the blond's.

Draco's eyes shut, and he kissed back without much reluctance. To be honest with himself, he had been getting a little embarrassed with his pitiful excuses. He wrapped his arm around Harry's waist and decided he'd think up a suitable retort later.

And then he'd keep it to himself. He was done arguing.


	8. And they Snarked Happily Ever After

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Notes: This was the product of a text to -TheSingingBlob-. I kind of have no life. :)

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Harry grows up, leaves school, and realizes he has absolutely no idea what he wants to do with his life. It is a shock, to have an experience shared by teenagers all over the world, for once. Harry knows: he's had enough of fighting and danger. He wants stability, a routine.

When Headmistress McGonagall comes to him with an offer to teach Muggle Studies after he's studied to become a professor, Harry accepts with a sense of relief. He can find only peace at Hogwarts.

Or so he thinks, until he finds the Potions post occupied by Draco Malfoy, an older Malfoy, but still as irritating as ever. His barbs are more sophisticated now, more subtle, but they still make Harry flush with anger. His own responses are more caustic and less brash, and it takes a while for him to realize that the other staff members hide smiles when they set off at each other, and that, oddly enough, he is actually enjoying himself. Once he considers the possibility that Malfoy's eyes might not be flashing with _anger_, he doesn't hesitate to approach him— after all, he was a Gryffindor.

And a peaceful life is highly overrated, anyway.

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